Landry's Lousy Day
by psychicpilgrim
Summary: Landry gets more than he bargained for when he agrees to drive Matt’s grandma to the game. Landry, Grandma Saracen, Julie, and Tyra.


**Landry's Lousy Day**

The heavy old door creaked on its hinges as Landry Clarke slammed it closed.

"You should oil that one of these days. Nice car like this…"

"Yes, ma'am," mumbled the young man. Chauffeuring his best friend's grandmother was nothing new to him, but right now car repair was not foremost in his mind. It was game night.

Layers of red and yellow painted the western sky, casting an orange glow on the landscape. October meant shorter days and a cool nip in the air, nature's way of declaring summer officially over.

"You know what would be nice right about now?" Her voice slowed to a crawl, lost in thought.

Landry turned the volume lower on the stereo. "Um, getting to the game on time?" He was mentally crossing his fingers; they were running late as it was.

Her gray head turned to regard him, her nose scrunching to adjust the placement of her glasses. "Do you remember what I was going to say, son?"

Week after week, they shared the same conversation, rarely straying from the pattern. However, the frustrated look on her face told him that the poor woman was struggling harder than usual.

"Matt said practice went well all week," he offered.

"It sure did! Coach certainly knows… how to… now if I could just remember."

Just a half mile more and they'd be at the stadium. Landry took a deep breath and tried again. "Matt said they're trying a new play tonight."

"Watermelon sherbet. Doesn't that sound mighty nice about now?"

_Nooooo!! _"I could get you one of those nutty bars you like so much once we get to the game. How's that sound, Mrs. Saracen?" _Please…_

She swung her right arm around wildly, just missing his head, to point behind them. "Stop-n-Go has some. Let's go back there."

Frantic eyes stared in the rear view mirror at the mile long string of cars following them to the school. Three tenths of a mile…

"Or Circle K. You can get everything at the good ol' Circle K, can't 'ya?"

He knew it was hopeless to resist and her wide grin only added to the guilt building up inside of him. Slowly, he signaled and pulled a u-turn.

Apparently, you can't get everything, or more specifically watermelon sherbet, at the Circle K, the Stop-n-Go, or the half dozen other gas stations and quick marts that he tried. All of the real businesses in Dillon had placed the closed sign in the window, their owners no doubt heading for the game.

What had started out as a lousy day was just getting worse by the minute.

"Mrs. Saracen," he said. "Are you sure we can't just skip the sherbet and head on over to the game? We don't want to miss the kick-off, now do we?"

She reached out and gently patted his shoulder. "When are you going to get yourself a girlfriend?"

His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. "Yeah, well, I'll get right on that, ma'am." At this point, he would've given up girls for a year just to get to the game. Well, maybe not, but it wasn't like the girls of Dillon were lining up for a date anyway, so it would be an empty promise at best.

Last Chance Mini-Mart. He snorted at the irony.

"Now, if they don't have watermelon sherbet, can I just get you another flavor, like say… lemon or raspberry?" _Please… _His eyes pleaded with her, but only got a grimace in return.

"Well, why didn't you just get that in the first place instead of driving all over town? We're gonna be late for the game and I don't want to miss my Matt."

The urge to bang his head against the steering wheel was overwhelming, but he gritted his teeth and exhaled slowly instead.

She handed him a wrinkled dollar bill, her kind smile reaching her eyes. "Here you go, Landry honey. Pick up something for yourself, ya hear?"

The money was still damp and warm from being clutched in her hand. "Yes, ma'am."

They arrived at the stadium a half hour and a half pint of rainbow sherbet later, just in time to hear the National Anthem ending. Landry paid for the tickets and helped Matt's grandma safely navigate her way to her favorite spot in the stands.

Sighing in relief, he quickly got lost in the action, cheering with the crowd. The Panthers were up by six by the end of the first quarter and Landry had put the whole sherbet escapade behind him.

"Landry honey?"

Or so he thought.

"You wouldn't happen to have my sweater, now would you? That sherbet got me all chilly."

"But the game…"

A sharp jab to his ribs stopped him cold. "Landry, don't be so selfish," hissed Julie Taylor. "Matt's grandma is cold. Go get her the sweater."

"Oh, I'm selfish? The guy who drove all over Dillon searching for non-existent watermelon sherbet and almost missed the kick-off is selfish?"

Julie tilted her head, looking past him, and smiled sweetly at the old woman. "Yeah, _that_ selfish guy. Now go!"

Landry grumbled all the way to the exit, pulling his car keys out as he walked.

"No return admittance without a ticket, kid," barked the burly gate attendant.

"Yeah, yeah, I can read the sign."

Thankfully, the pink sweater was sitting on the front seat and he quickly made his way back to the gate. He dug his hand deep in his jeans pocket – keys, wallet, the limp old dollar. No ticket. He checked every pocket again and smiled nervously at the same guard.

"Nice sweater, kid."

Landry ignored the dig and decided to play the sympathy card as it was his only hope of getting back inside. "Yeah, it belongs to Matt Saracen's grandmother. You know, QB1? Nice guy that I am, I ran to the car to fetch it for her."

"I don't care whose grandma owns that sweater. You're not getting back in without your ticket."

So much for sympathy. Throwing the sweater over his shoulder, he searched his pockets once again, his eyes darting around the dark ground in hopes of spotting it. Unfortunately, the blazing overhead lights didn't reach the area behind the bleachers, making his task even more impossible.

"Please mister," pleaded Landry. "I've missed almost the whole second quarter. Can't you make an exception just this one time? I mean, you did see me leave, so you know I had to have paid to get in, right?"

The only response was an amused chuckle which only served to add to the young man's frustration. Landry slung the sweater over the gate's latch and shouted, "Fine! Be a jerk to me, I don't care anymore. But, it's not fair that Mrs. Saracen has to sit up there in the stands and freeze."

The gate attendant was straining to see the game, so Landry yelled louder. "Hey dude! If Matt's grandma gets sick, it's going to be your fault, and then he's going to miss the next game and the whole town of Dillon will be after you!"

The guard finally looked at the teen's frantic expression. "You been drinking, kid?"

"Huh?" It was all too much and without thinking, Landry kicked the chain link fence with the side of his boot, rattling the metal. Turning away, he slammed his heel into the loose dirt and cursed.

"Landry, right?"

The voice caught him off guard. It wasn't the gate attendant, or any man for that matter. Glancing over his shoulder, all he could summon from his throat was a grunt.

"Uhh…"

Many a day dream had been centered on the lovely, but hopelessly unattainable Tyra Collette. But now she was talking to him and he found it more than a little distracting. A soft wave of golden hair fell over one eye as her head tilted and she stared in his direction, daring him to speak.

"Uhh… "

When her full lips formed a straight line, he swore all the air had left his lungs. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and sighed. "I'll take that as a yes?"

Landry managed a giddy grin. "Hey, Tyra."

The side of her mouth curled up in a smirk and her head motioned towards the gate. "Is that your _favorite_ sweater?"

He had forgotten all about the wooly pink monster that was still draped over the latch. Quickly, he snatched it away and stared down at his own feet, hoping that his cheeks weren't burning the same rosy shade. "Oh no, its Matt's grandma's. She's cold and…"

"That's nice."

Her comment took him completely by surprise. For once, it wasn't a day dream, but that didn't stop him from getting lost in her beautiful blue-green eyes.

"Uhh…"

Rolling her eyes, she waved the scrap of blue paper in front of his dumbfounded face. "You're still weird, but that's a nice thing to do."

"Uh-huh, weird." His head nodded in agreement while his hand reached blindly for the ticket, unable to avert his gaze.

Instead, the tall blonde handed the ticket to the guard. "Let him in." She ignored the attendant's leer as he waved Landry by.

"Thanks, Tyra."

"Whatever." She turned to head back to the game. "Just stop staring at me in history class."

Another roar rose up from the crowd and Landry shouted above the noise. "Oh, you bet! Anything you say, Tyra!"

He wasn't quite sure how he made it back to his seat in the stands.

"What took you so long?" Julie nudged him lightly when he didn't respond. He just stared back with a dizzy smile. "You're so weird, Landry, you know that?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "That's what she said."

What had started out as a lousy day was just getting better by the minute.

**The End**


End file.
